Monday, May 20, 2013

As long as I can see
the forest, I won’t get caught up in the trees.
It’s safer up here. I’ve
always been a big picture person. A 10,000
ft. view of life is a clear and comforting place for me.

Lately, I find myself questioning how I value my time, is
there something else I should be doing with this short life? What’s missing? In the midst of tragedy or crisis, it’s easy
for me to be grateful, to appreciate the predictable. However, I find it takes a little more work
and intention to find the extra-ordinary in an ordinary day.

I don’t see myself as an ungrateful or negative person, but
still wrestle with the feeling of discontentment. I’m referring to a place beyond
the basic need of food, shelter, and health—for these, I’m eternally
grateful. I’m referring to happiness
and contentment that can be discovered in a typical, ordinary day of any given week. Say, like a Tuesday. Not nearly as fun as Friday, right?

We all have those ordinary mundane Tuesdays, filled with similar
predictable routine—possibly not your favorite day of the week. While some days
seem ordinary, it’s where I believe
the real “work” gets done. The powerful place where many little decisions, behaviors
and habits of our daily life are in action—creating a much more impactful
outcome often not realized until much further down the road. I’ve recently questioned how much I’m missing
not spending more time on my Tuesday happy, underestimating the significance of
a typical day.

I think there is a great deal to be learned from the
awareness of daily habits and behavior and how they influence the larger part
of happiness in life. Showing up for the
little parts of every day with gratitude, intention and purpose, making small
incremental adjustments along the way, this is what makes the extraordinary
happen.

When I am undistracted by the negative pull of
discontentment in these smaller, familiar places of life, I can change the experience AND the outcome. For now, I’ll spend
my time on the details, the little steps, the in between—likely the beginning
of what’s to be revealed in the bigger stuff ahead.

I want to remember what it was like getting to
know them. I want to
share the story of my
experience and perspective with them. Leaving a
successful career to
be at home wasn't easy for me. Until I went back
to
work, I needed something else.
During a trying first
year of motherhood, I started
writing to spend more
time focusing on what was good.
I found comfort and company in a lonely space, a voice inside wanting to
be heard. Now, I write to escape from
the busyness of
everyday life. I'm on a quest to learn something
worth teaching.